


To Teach a (b)oy

by TheTentacleCommander



Series: Just N/J Porn [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Blood Kink, Boot Worship, Bratting, Breathplay, Choking, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Rings, Collars, Come Eating, Dom/sub, Dominance, F/M, Face Punching, Femdom, Hand & Finger Kink, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, Insults, Kinks, Large Cock, Licking, Male Submissive, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Games, Minor Chris Redfield/Jill Valentine, Minor Chris Redfield/Sheva Alomar, Mouth Kink, Murder Kink, Naked Male Clothed Female, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis Size, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Shame, Shameless Smut, Situational Humiliation, Size Difference, Sorry Not Sorry, Spit Kink, Submission, Tears, Teasing, Tentacle Monsters, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, wanted an explicitly bottomish Nemesis for once in this tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-08 03:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTentacleCommander/pseuds/TheTentacleCommander
Summary: Aka [TTC's BDSM Story Tyme with extra kink!] If the DS Storyline went where I first intended it - Nemesis finding himself at the mercy of one Jill Valentine, a woman very much in control of her emotions and who upon seeing the Tyrant decided to leave her kid gloves at the door. She is hardened by years of fighting bioterror and therefore knows how to subdue and neutralize said targets. But considering the value in keeping the last of the Nemesis T-Type series alive, she decides to see if he can be tamed. Drabbles ...sort of (more like 'will be added to whenever'). Heavy BDSM elements will occur.PWP. Self Indulgent Perversion /sorry not sorry.





	1. Where Teacher and boy gain their roles

**Author's Note:**

> This…is a thing. Think of It as a doujinshi for my fanfic. Yea. This is truly a PWP and is gunna be a kink fest. Or! This is what I sorta intended the [prologue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153071/chapters/30082500) that started this whole mess to be – an intro to a very dirty, long, and intense scene between a Jill in Tyrant breaking mode and Nemesis at Jill’s complete mercy. She is trained in anti B.O.W. tactics and having a captive and truly cooperative Nemesis would be beneficial to the BSAA. Since having a captive and very possible to train Tyrant at her feet, why not take advantage? The first step to ensure future compliance is to not even address him as an equal, not even as an adult male or by name but by the lowest of monikers – boy. 
> 
> Corporal Punishment Jill is itching to play. There will be no reding out for you, Nemmy. Just broken pride and tears.
> 
> This is dedicated to Marukanitel, that lost soldier of femdom!Jill/sub!Nemmy - felt like keeping the torch lit on that.

The White Room. The room was so called because of its interior was almost a mythical word on the lips of the other operatives. The code word brought uneasiness, it's purpose known to most. Despite the stark white of the door, there was nothing pleasant on the other side. Jill let out a small breath calming her nerves, clearing her mind before using her ID to open the door. She walked in the door slowly closing behind her. Any visual sense of fear or worry was gone from her person, her demeanor was replaced by one more practiced, predatory. Clad in fatigues and armed with a small briefcase, she set to her task.

The room was blindingly white, with the walls, floor, and ceiling padded. This was to prevent the prisoner from using the room itself as a weapon against the staff or themselves. The only furniture was a small chair on the leftmost wall, and a bed on the right in which a figure sat, leather clothing his inhumanly tall frame. _It wouldn't do to break her new ward...physically_. The tall creature stood out starkly, his head bowed over as if in a sort of prayer. His eye was closed, but she was sure he knew from the moment she stepped in that she was there. With no fear, the blond walks to the unmoving resident, gazing at him with a clinical eye. At this, she fully switched to a more efficient albeit playful mindset. Even an admittedly heated one, as it was just her and him in here. And no one was to interfere with her work. Looking the Tyrant over fully, Jill concluded that she had a lot of work to do.

At this, she cleared the last few steps towards the monster. He did not move, but she could see it in his features now up close, the low barely controlled snarls he made the closer she walked towards him...it stirred something, something primal, even perverse in her. There were no cameras in this room. Outside of this room, with the reactions he made; her consideration in entertaining them would and should wholesale disgust her. But in here, the only rules that mattered were Her rules, and it would be wise to establish that now. 

Besides, he did admittedly have some semblance of an admirable human physique as disgusting his facial features were. A male is a male after all.

Jill stood in front of the beast, his stapled head bowed almost as if the Tyrant knew this was the position she expected of him. Compliance in a B.O.W. from the beginning...interesting. _I don't believe he's being truthful though._

_x_

She drags one thin finger down his scalp. His mottled, necrotic skin glistened with sweat as her pale finger cut a path, clearing a way through the sweat that pooled from the pure excitement the Tyrant used his willpower to repress. Nemesis could not see this though as his head was bowed not even daring to meet her gaze. He did not need to see that Jill's eyes were ablaze with want. He could smell it, and a part of him thrilled in hidden triumph in this fact. The female that succeed in defeating him was alive and alone, _the bitch thinks she has me cowed. I'll play along_. As long as he got to have her, he'll play and she'll give. _Or else_. That soft hand was soothing in its simple touches and he couldn't help but lose himself to the touch a pleasing feeling trailing up his spine. Her hand was all his world consisted of at this moment, his breathing low and heavy compared to hers faint and controlled. 

Slowly, he found himself leaving the chair, letting himself position himself onto the padded floor. Nemesis heard the small woman make a pleasing sound at this. He was now on his knees, himself dipping even lower to ensure she would stand above him hoping to encourage that pleasing sound as it meant she believed him good. Trustworthy. Another odder feeling crossed his mind but he ignored that. Her hands teased him, softly stroking his sweat-laden face before Jill roughly grabs him by the chin. He did not move nor look up, still restraining himself letting that hand still be his world. "Good boy. My good, good boy," Jill softly whispered. Nemesis despite himself softly shuddered, still looking down his mouth openly drooling between her fingers while his pants seemed to squeeze painfully tight. It didn't matter that she called him 'boy'. He was no piglet, but ... _no. It doesn't matter_. That strange but rather pleasant feeling intensified, but that didn't matter as the game has now begun. 


	2. Gifts to Enforce

Jill had pulled out two small packages from her briefcase. He didn’t expect her to give him anything. He was her captive… _oh. Is this what this is about. Fine_. Such small jewelry is nothing to him. Two circular items, one sized to the neck and the other too big to be for a finger…The premise of it was strange and odd. She in gripping his chin had placed on the larger one. But the other she refused, stating simply for him to place it on himself, that he wasn’t a stupid boy and knew how it worked. That word again. _Boy_. It made him bristle, yet.

He did not fear the small silver thing. The metal on his neck felt like nothing something he could easily tear off of himself when he eventually got bored; so would this item-

-click-

The Tyrant’s assuredness of the small item posing no threat fell as that tightness was way more than he expected, the small thing trapping the base of his cock like a vice. He tried to slip his larger fingers around it to find how to shift it lose but by design, it merely slipped, the seam that denoted where the item opened impossible for his fingers to unlatch. _But not for hers_ …

At the thought of that, he remembered her touch and with almost swift like cruelty, he found that pleasing feeling from before return and in turn tightened the small dainty metal around him beyond vice like into the level of intolerable. In his frustration and confusion, Nemesis looked toward the blonde woman who had left his side to have him place the item on, had started to softly laugh at his own self-inflicted predicament. He growled as she openly laughed – he felt his murderous urges flare before her small hand trailed his face again, soft and distracting. Soft and arousing.

Arousal came to him that painfully and brutally could not complete as the small silver thing didn’t just grip his cock like a vice, it impeded his ability to empty his balls. The female came closer to him again to softly pet his scalp along his staples before noting softly yet firmly, “Good boys don’t make messes, at least too much of it.” This statement incensed him yet the feeling of being indirectly called ‘good’, Nemesis wasn’t sure why that pleased him.


	3. boy needs to learn patience is a virtue.

"Strip." Her response broke the frustrating loop of thoughts forming in his mind; Jill's voice was calm, soothing yet to the point. And so Nemesis did, taking off every piece of leather till he was bared in front of her, his cock dripping and painfully hard. He returned back onto his knees like an excited puppy hoping that she would relieve him, hoping that she would be done soon with this strange game. _It'd be a shame if he ended it for her, a shame for her that is_. At that, his cock twitched only making things hurt more for him. He regrets ever putting this item on. A low wail came from him, he hated that a small thing like this could cause so much pain. _Relieve me of this thing, human bitch!_  

Jill walked to the side opening her brown suitcase. Inside were titanium rods, and whips made of other hard metals and materials - items that wouldn't break easily upon his hide. The male could only eye the items, refusing to even dignify the array of weapons his full attention. He was no weakling. He can endure. Enclosed with them were also first aid sprays the items not used to heal but to burn against his virus-laden body. A cruel play, he'll admit to that. Creative even. He didn't think the female had it in her.

Nemesis was so busy 'not looking' at the tools that he barely noticed her making a pointed gesture. Jill sharply pointed to the floor not even justifying him with a verbal directive. The monster shaking with repressed need was confused by this, and for a moment snarled.

x

Jill's blue eyes narrowed. He had forgotten his place. The woman, fully dressed in BSAA military attire, looked at him before digging into a pocket donning and adjusting her weighted gloves also of Tyrant quality strength and hold. She shifted her hand towards her issue side baton but decided against it. Instead, she walked towards him, the male shivering with heat and need. She could even see the telltale dimming yellow of his eye.

x

Nemesis snarled louder, letting himself freely drool, his tongue licking his teeth in want. As she walked nearer towards him, he leaned near her, lewdly mewling and trying to push his body as close to her as possible. He leaned forward hoping to catch her mid-stride, before the male suddenly and swiftly found himself to the floor, his face a blur of pain. As he rose up, another strong punch hit him in the face, not enough to break but enough to seriously stun and cause a whimper of actual pain come out from his maw.

 

Jill lowly hissed at the floored Tyrant, "Since when does My boy disobey? Floor. Now." 


	4. The floor is a good teacher, too.

Nemesis’ head rung with pain, a sensation he rarely registers as few rarely get the drop on him like this. It’s hard to concentrate, what with his cock and balls almost cut off from each other due to a small metal cock ring, by design impossible for him to take off on his own without injuring himself. In looking down at it through the dots in his shaky vision, it reflected his stunned face; the barely-there locking inseam told him in no uncertain terms that he had no control over himself. Not anymore.

All Nemesis could do was to let himself fall to the floor slowly, his own bodyweight pressing down on the ring, moving slowly to avoid lying flat on his cock-

A metal baton pressed into his face, into his gums; he could taste the hint of blood in his maw from the second punch. The Tyrant flinched as Jill moved the metal instrument away before pushing it roughly against his hidden nostrils, purring, “No. Lay down flat. I want you as flat as a board. Or do you not want a reward today, boy?” Nemesis slowly lowered himself fully to the floor, the woman guiding him with the baton. This motion forced him to painfully breathe past the instrument, his maw drooling absently as Jill maneuvered it in such a way as to force him to keep his face positioned upward as he lowered further down to the floor. It did not escape the Tyrant’s notice that her thin fingers hovered by a small top switch on the weapon. It was a stun baton and he knew Jill knew how to use it. His cock raged as he gingerly flattened himself, laying his body into a thin carpet of his own sweat, drool, pre-cum and most humiliating of all, dots of blood. _Good boys are rewarded with pain. Bad boys are rewarded with pleasure_. And for Her, he was going to be -very- good.

_No._

_That phrase, Father taught him that. No. We won't cave to that phrase._

_Damn you, female. I will win this game._

 

Nemesis could only lowly snarl into the padded floor covered in his own filth. 


	5. Appreciate other's toys, boy

Jill guided the Tyrant with the baton, having him slowly sink to the floor. A wince crossed his monstrous features as he laid flat. Nemesis had no choice but to push his cock downward as resting it naturally pointing upward only pushed the ring tighter and cause it to roughly rub against his groin. Pointing his cock downward at least saved the second problem from occurring. The downside is it forced his balls to be freely visible, the skin tight and clearly full of the come the ring prevented him from expelling. In the end, he knew that no matter how he nudged himself, the cruelty of being unable to come was unavoidable.

She removed the stun baton from his hidden nostrils letting it drift back against his gums. The monster growled but not in aggression but more from unease. Nemesis knew that Jill wasn’t done with the use of it and was leery on her plans with the weapon. The blond started to softly tap against his teeth, humming in mock fascination. She would do it lightly, then a bit harder, then harder still causing aggravation to rise from him. He found the action irritating and unbearable. She probed around more aggressively with the baton, before the monster gave in and opened his mouth, lowly snarling then snapping his powerful, shark teeth against it. The Tyrant head a small amused laugh from the blond before the baton was shoved deep in his maw. Jill prodded it painfully against his torn check, pushing it around in the male’s mouth. This angers him as he darkly growls before biting down hoping to break the intruding item.

The only warning Nemesis had was the light “tsk, tsk, tsk,” Jill made before he felt white hot blindness hit him in an intense flash. His mouth suddenly tasted like burnt ash with the aftertaste of copper wire. His teeth felt rattled by whatever she just did. Mind foggy from what just happened, he absentmindedly bit down again on the intruding item to feel his face shake then grow numb with aftershocks. Nemesis’ tongue lolled out of his mouth, the feeling of electrocution a sensation he had long forgotten. Ironically, the person to first introduce him to such ‘pleasure’ at a clocktower long ago was the very woman standing above him, softly shaking her head in disappointment. His face was so slack, that it was very easy for Jill to let the item slide out of Nemesis’ maw.

Jill’s hand had returned to stroking his scalp, letting her gloved fingers drift to his slack mouth, the male still aware but frozen momentarily by the intensity of the shock baton. Her fingers drifted to his permanently exposed teeth, carefully touching along the shark like protrusions. Nemesis tried to snarl but could only make out a faint wheeze as while his vocal cords worked, he couldn’t open his maw to articulate his pain and anger at being stunned like this. A soft hand tapped the side of his numb face, the woman breaking out into a bout of laughter, clearly amused at his struggle.

“Maybe next time, you will not try to break My toys.”


	6. boy should give absolute trust, loyalty, and compliance in all things

Jill leaned down at the Tyrant, the woman calming down from her laughter fit. It was just too damn funny! This creature who had at one point chased her down numerous city streets filled with death and carnage just reduced to _this_. She looked down at Nemesis not with contempt (okay maybe a little admittedly) but mostly with amusement. He was looking up at her, his pupiless eye glaring daggers at her. He wasn’t moving off the floor yet. She wasn’t sure how long he’d stay in that state, but the fact that he could reach it at all filled her with a mix of pride and vindication. She noted how he reacted to her hand. Even though she had used them to deliver a set of hard right hooks, he had every time she touched him with them had relaxed almost as if he found solace in her touches. Her hands were to be the first thing and the last thing he felt. This was normal.

This was expected.

An Owner shouldn’t just elicit fear but absolute trust, loyalty, and compliance in all things. The last thing was what had her stand above him again. She could tell he was following her movements as the light hitting his eye would shift and change denoting eye movement. Jill made certain to always be in his focus. She approached him with no hesitation to show that she held no fear crushing the thing most that high order thinking Tyrants traded in – intimidation.

Jill positions her boots an inch away from that slack jaw, the leather reinforced from the inside with anti B.O.W. boning. It was like wearing steel-toed boots but even more secure within.

“Open.”

For a long moment, Nemesis looked at her; a strange glance – uncertainty? – crossed that milky white eye. That was all he did. She sighed before tapping the tip of her right boot against those horrid as ever teeth, just enough to ghost against the flats of them. A soft almost tired groan came out of him, but he did not comply. Jill could see from his past reactions so far that this wasn’t a being used to complying to anyone of his own will. She merely shrugged, not angry just amused at this observation, before sliding the tip of that boot under his chin. This gave the boot easy access to his throat.  Jill let the sole of that boot sit upon that pronounced and slowly rising Adam’s apple. An audible gulp was heard. That eye glared at her still, the lump of torn and necrotic flesh that would’ve denoted an eyebrow narrowed clearly unliking where her boot was heading. The blonde then slowly pushed down.

This had the once despondent Tyrant reach out with his arm, not having her dare choke him like that. This, of course, she expected. She shifted off of him quickly. With but a twist of her arm she reintroduced him to the baton that he in his heavy observation of her forgot about along his now exposed side. The Tyrant had curled up in unexpected pain, the shocks concentrated in one intense spot. She noted how quick to anger and retaliation he was. In Raccoon he had methodically tracked her and each incident had led up to close quarters fights, the male almost always using sheer strength over finesse. It was as if despite having some tactical knowledge, in the end, the Tyrant struck first and thought later. Merely because he didn’t have to. He could take out an army if he wanted to, who needed finesse? Also, interestingly enough he did not yet use his tentacles. Did he not find her sufficiently threatening? Or simply underestimated her finding her an unworthy target to fully attack? _Oh well. He’ll learn_. She’ll beat that pride right out of him.

With that thought, she kicked him roughly along his battered side, targeting that same spot eliciting a low inhuman wail from him. This motion also had him weakly open his mouth, it seemly able to move again. As Nemesis curled his back to the floor, the male positively enraged now, Jill simply kicked his face right at the meeting of the jaw and upper teeth. Before he had time to react, in a show of force Jill pushed down against his face again with that same boot by the fronts of his teeth. With a voice that was both sickly kind and yet with a hint of pure control she restated again, “Open.”

Each second he didn’t, she pushed against his head back down to the floor, the tread of the boot leaving an imprint on his face. Nemesis snarled even louder, his deep breaths of rage filling the room. Jill merely clicked on the baton, letting him hear and see the weapon light up with faint crackles of electricity. For a split second, she in glancing down at him – a position she surmised many humans didn’t get to experience – noted the flicker of pure, honest unease cross his face as the Tyrant slowly, carefully opened his shark-like maw.

There was something disturbingly beautiful at seeing his large mouth open, drool tracking past his jaws, her boot slowly drifting past his teeth and between them. Had she’d ben wearing anything less than her current boots, she would’ve been worried. She could even see him twisting her leg whilst in his mouth in retaliation.

This was where the trust was to be built. An Owner needs absolute trust that their boy will behave. So, Jill removed her foot, sitting herself down onto his large barrel chest, the expanse a perverse expression of extremely overly exaggerated masculine features. She returned her boot to his maw. The Tyrant without hesitation this time let her boot inside.  Jill pressed deeper inside, letting the boot fill his maw, his exposed teeth making a macabre ring around the well-used leather. Jill kept her attire military neat, but the bottoms of her boots may have had a few leftover residues from that day’s patrols.

This possibly caused the male to cough and haplessly swallow around his own spit. Or, it could have been the fact that she was making it hard to breathe. Either way, Nemesis was expressing a lot of discomfort with that boot muffling the strained bass like growls that tried to drift from his mouth. But, Jill noted he did not move to knock her off or bite down. This was good.

“Good boy,” she cooed. “Now, you get a treat”. That wording caused again that eyebrow to raise up. _No one can say that he wasn’t a curious sort,_ she aimlessly thought to herself. She slowly almost teasingly slow, pulled her boot out of his maw, the thing coated in drool. _Ugh_. In annoyance, Jill slowly wiped her boot on to the left side of the Tyrant’s face. That face, while still showing agitation, showed an earnestness in it. That was another thing she found interesting about him – he didn’t hide his emotions.

She calmly grabbed the right side of his face, stroking small circles along his skin. As she caressed his face, the Tyrant made a small noise in his throat. She looked him in the eye to parse that, but the monster quickly hid the expression he then held, a flicker of anger replacing the almost softer gaze Jill barely got to see.


	7. boy just needs attention

Nemesis couldn’t look her in the eyes. Those blue eyes seemed to read him _too well_ and it incensed him. He could have thrown her off, no should have just tossed this assumptive, arrogant bitch into the wall!

But he didn’t.

He had grabbed at her – a tactic that worked before – and found himself under the heel of her boot. The taste of dirt and other unidentifiable grime filled his maw. The Tyrant could only respond to that, and to his own spit on the side of his face by spitting towards a wall. His maw had a momentary clearing of the disgusting after taste. His pride, not so much.

No.

That wasn’t it. Not really. A part of him had to admit, he simply wanted her attention. It was something about this woman that made him want her presence, want her company. Want her full attention. Nemesis liked drawing things out with her. She probably had long cottoned on to it even. There were many targets to be found in that burning town, many he did not hesitate in ending. They just didn’t offer him anything. No fight, no challenge, no refusal to behave – they were aimless pigs, but she refused to bend. She, in the end, had outplayed him at his own game.

She, in the end, was willing to play at all with him and he craved more of it.

Conflictingly, the Tyrant wanted to be angry. He even felt the familiar fury rising within himself the deeper she pressed that disgusting boot in his maw. But her attention, her full uncompromised attention made something in him trill, something in him that he hated yet wanted more of. It was something in contrast to the cold rage he held to the world. Something new and he felt thirsty for it.

Jill smiled as she rose up off him, the male laying there despite himself wanting to grab her neck in his fist – but a more powerful, confusing urge had him not do so. As she rose, the blond hooked her finger around the small metal hoop of his collar. Without a word, Nemesis sat up, the memory of the shock baton still fresh in his mind.

And if he were truly honest with himself, she made that feeling within trill harder because, despite the physical power difference between them, she would have the fortitude to command him.

This made his cock twitch which in turn made the vise squeeze harder.

And even that felt… _normal. Bearable._ He dug his fingernails into his fists and turned his face away from her controlling, heated gaze. He never felt such a mixed feeling of this new strange emotion and pure need before towards _anyone_ much less a human that he had zero reason to be fond of. The Tyrant shuddered as he forced himself up with her light pull making it appear as if she was lifting him. But to him, Jill might as well have.

The Tyrant was ‘pulled’ up to rest on his knees, his large overly muscular thighs spread open, his cock freely visible the member pulsing and hard. The shaft pulsed with ache the thin discoloring of purple breaking up the necrotic brown of it with the head shaded in a perverse mix of both colors, wet with desperate precome. He knew that ‘himself’ filled this body in every aspect, and it was telling that instinctively he decided to fill one of the most sensitive parts of said body despite not being created to breed.  That thought – of having a chance to bend this female, to break her in filled his thoughts, to force her body open and see it distend, her squealing as he impales her again and again.

This time the vise around his cock hurt him but a part of him rationalized away the pain as her being oh so tight, _oh so human_ -

The sound of a chair being pulled forward broke his increasingly pleasing thoughts. The jolt back to reality had the pain of the cock ring supersede his pleasure and the monster could only let out a low, pained moan. It was a desperate, even pitiful sound but at this point, Nemesis didn’t care. It didn’t help that her scent made it hurt all the more. Jill had pulled up the lone metal chair that he sat in previous, and for that moment he glanced at her, his position leaving him still slightly taller than her from the floor but mentally he felt like he shrank a few inches. In looking, he glanced at her blue eyes looking at him with this predatory glee. Her lips curled into a vicious, triumphant smile as she leaned forward from that chair. That smile – had he not had the cock ring on, he would’ve came then and there.

“This hurts, doesn’t it? My poor, hurting boy.” Jill leans in, letting her gloved hand pet him, taking care to toy with the dried spit on his face. Despite it, Nemesis leans in, shuddering into that touch. As she pets him, Jill whispered into his earhole:

“It’s your fault it hurts, you know. A boy’ll put their little dick in anything, huh?”

Despite himself, maybe even because of her words full of contempt he lowly moaned, that odd feeling filling him making him both shamelessly growl and lean into that hand. The sound of need he didn’t bother to restrain, it wasn’t as if he could lie anymore, as his cock was aching for a release he deeply feared she’d never give him.

The male’s body lurched slightly as he felt something graze against his painfully engorged and swollen dick. Jill had barely grazed the sole of her boot against him, pushing his rock-hard dick painfully upward, dragging along the underside slowly, teasingly so. Then as if she didn’t hold his full attention, pulled away before tapping the point of her boot against his overly sensitive, sodden tip. Nemesis made a noise that was a mix of an agonizing wail and a high keening sound. He could only tremble from the pure aftershocks that simple touch left him. His body almost without his input arched backward, letting her gain more access to his cock, not less, the male wanting anything to make this tightness end.

“Hey, boy. Do dicks belong in a vise?” Jill said this with a soft edge to her voice. Her voice was dripping with power which made his predatorial instinct flare. He wanted to bite her throat, reclaim his rightful place above not below. _She genuinely felt she ruled him now and_ -

“Do you like it on there?”

_This isn’t right. This is absurd!_

“It seems, so. Silly boy put it on under no duress.”

_This wasn’t how the game was to be played!_

“It’s so red and angry. Stupid boy must like it this way. Maybe I should leave it on?”

Nemesis was drooling from his maw in between growls, the male fuming, aching, wanting, keening in desperation despite it all. Jill was alternating her boot between tapping the head of his cock and rubbing the underside of his shaft. _I -will- end you!_ As he began to eye that throat, it uttered more, her voice softly drifting into a purr, a soothing and enticing sound:

“boy likes it like this.”

Her boots began to stroke him more gently from balls to shaft to tip.

“boy needs it like this.”

She softly pressed his cock flat against his shaking abdomen, his painfully leaking and swollen tip dripping back onto him. Him, the larger Tyrant sitting still with his legs parted on his knees. Still while having no reason to do so. Nemesis groans in agony but despite himself, a shiver of pleasure floods his senses seemingly keeping his murderous impulses in check. He wants to murder her oh so much, make her bleed and fill her but this disorienting feeling has taken hold and he is unsure if he even wants it to go. But he is hyper-aware of three things now: his cock twitching; his balls so achingly full and the female.

“Present yourself; I shouldn’t have to find a good angle for you, boy.”

He had realized that he had begun to slide his legs closed, more than likely to keep her foot onto him. More than likely to keep that sensation of touch against him. So, _because he was a good, good boy_ he spread his thighs back open again, his knees to the ground, his feet up on their toes. The Tyrant’s head leaned against his chest, looking down as he with limited shame drooled onto his own chest. She rubbed the sole of her boot harder still against his swollen cock, making him shake in helplessness.

He wanted, no needed so badly to come.

“Do you want it off, boy?”

Nemesis could hear the smile in her voice at his desperation. He looks up to see her digging into a side pocket in her pants.

“Ask me nicely, boy and I’ll maybe allow it to come off.”

In a haze of ecstasy and agony, the male noted the small device in her hand. The Tyrant felt wetness coat his face; he in his frustration had begun to leak tears in his pain, desperate to come. Had he had any shame left, Nemesis would have raged over this.

“How pitiful you are to cry over this.” The pointed disdain in her voice didn’t trigger a snarl, but a sense of …failure. _I don’t fail. I never fail. You…worrisome bitch…I don’t!_ That troubling feeling that lingered, the one that kept him from simply reaching over and simply using her for her built purpose only intensified, twisting along with his labored breathing.

Her small fingers press down on the small device; the cock ring pops open with embarrassing ease. He half expected Jill to physically take it off, those tiny, human hands granting him that much. That she deemed him not even worthy of that-

“Now, now you don’t get to touch yourself. Only bad boys dirty themselves. Good boys only do as told. Sit open.”

He looked up, letting the barest hint of a snarl out, _that she thought him that …weak…that was her job…_

Nemesis could only lean back, his lone eye slitting closed as she roughly started to jerk his cock with her boot again denying him her direct touch, but it was okay, she was doing it, the female was fixing her error pleasing him not the other way around.  It didn’t matter how she served him, but she is! She was rough and uncaring, but it didn’t matter, he’ll have her tight and broken around him soon, just let him get this frustration out just _ahhnnn_ ~

Despite himself, he found himself unable to hold back, his cock almost bursting in painful release like a released pressure valve. Thick jets of come came from his shaking body, his cock pulsing with each jet. Streaks of come covered a once polished boot, his own semen coating a bit of the small embossed BSAA logo at the top. Nemesis was panting and shaking, unsure of the last time he had come so hard or so quickly. That last point felt disgraceful, felt beneath him and yet that off feeling from before intensified.

“Ah, did boy forget?” Jill softly tut-tuts at him, pointing down at all the fluid that covered her boot. “Your reward did not include leaving behind a mess. Clean them. Now.”

Despite himself, despite this growing feeling that seemed to be very interested in taking away any true want to kill this pig, _this is_ _shame isn’t it? …_ he did. He did as he lowered his face to her boots, nearing the same one that once graced his face with his own spit, and began to lick, slowly and carefully from the stitched area connecting sole and boot, to the wingtip, to the strings and the embossed logo he licked shamelessly clearing away his own seed.  As long as her attention was on him, the Tyrant would do anything to keep it. In this, he still was winning. And soon, this odd feeling will pass, he would grow bored and punish this foolish female. He may even keep her alive for a few rounds. It was a shame all his fresh come wasn’t in her instead … _mmmh_

“Ah, I didn’t say you could again, greedy boy!” It hadn’t occurred to him that he was leaking out another load of come.

He was too busy cleaning her-!

Jill suddenly moved her boot, following it with a hard kick to his front. Searing pain brought his attention from himself to her, the woman winding up and kicking him repeatedly in his just spent dick. Her face had twisted into an angry snarl. The blonde punctuated each growled out word with a kick,

“I. Did. Not. Say. My boy. Could. Come! Bad boy!”

Nemesis near felt himself vomit with the brutal assault on himself. What erection or urge he had to come again was robbed from him, the overwhelming pain chasing off any pleasure he had. The woman for a moment showed signs of exertion, breathing a bit heavier from the work of putting him in place. A moment and her voice was more even:

“That’s better. A boy is too weak to control himself without adjustment, I can see now. Sit up.”

Despite the newfound ache he felt along his cock, he keened in want, a desperate want that he couldn’t explain. This want mingled with this strange _shame_ pushed him to do as told. Jill’s face was tinged in red and despite this humiliating display she wrought out of him, he knew it! He knew she wanted him. That was all he needed for a victory. Nemesis will have this female. Let her feel control a bit longer. It will make it all the sweeter when he seizes it from her. _He will_. And yet, her controlling, commanding voice brought his attention back to her face, her lips, her command-

“No whimpering, boy. **Put it back on**.”


	8. Interlude (1).

Jill takes a sip of tea, washing down a seasoned bite of chicken breast. The cafeteria was packed full of operatives milling about enjoying their meals and engaging in light conversation. She was no different, smiling and laughing with Chris, Josh and Sheva. They talked of many things, including in hushed code like tones of her pet ‘project’. They were interested in how that was going. There was a rumor of a large B.O.W. being kept down in the White Room where the problem acquisitions were held but none but their small group knew of what kind nor of the exact reasoning why.

Jill and co planned to keep it that way, wanting to not cause concern. She smiled and laughed at their comments, Chris even asking if she’s made him bark yet. They all laughed. Even as Chris leaned against Sheva, and Josh tried hard to not laugh too loudly at the table. The moniker ‘Jill the Lion Tamer’ came up as a silly pet name, the group having faith things were well. Jill looked fine every time she left and nothing was documented as wrong.

 _Jill had every intention of keeping things that way_.

…

She was straightening her small apartment. It had gotten messy over the last few weeks with her almost living between here and the White Room. This project took a lot more out of her than expected. So much to do, so many ideas to keep the Tyrant on his toes.

It was funny. She had no intention of taking things as far as they have gone. Simply stripping him down was a matter of keeping him vulnerable to any weaponry. The collar and cock ring were happy accidents.

 _No_.

She just in preparing for this 'breaking game' had just done it, a part of her grinning while packing her case on autopilot. A part of her who wanted things, things that made sense yet didn’t, things Chris just couldn’t provide, nor wouldn’t. On her bedside table were pictures of family, friends, work associates, _Chris and her_.

The blonde began to wistfully think of him, the man posing flexing his muscles comically talking in an Austrian accent about pumping her up, the times off where they’d go to dinner, safer times before bioterror took their lives over, the nice red lines she’d leave on his back, his sobs and how beautiful they were, her holding him close after a particularly rough play session –

_But things just…I wanted what he couldn’t give. I needed more, he couldn’t bear it._

_Friends though. We get to still be friends._

_But I-_

Jill lays in bed, with her laptop propped open at her side. She pulls up an encrypted channel that she made sure she had lone access to. The black terminal window processes before popping into view images. The images were cut in a four-way showing from four angles Nemesis. One camera had him from a few hours ago crashing into the wall, trying desperately to take the ring off, the very ring she demanded he’d put back on.

A sliver of pleasure filled her in that, him despite showing clearly that he hated it, put it back on knowing it’d hurt him. It was almost as if he knew how it amused her. She bit her lip as camera two showed the back of his sweat-laden stapled head, camera three him at a side angle laying on the still functional cot. But what held her interest most was camera four as the Tyrant stared blankly forward legs sprawled open not hiding anything from her view. And then, with what could only be described as a mixture of contempt and pure unhidden lust he glared straight at the camera despite the male having no way to know he was even being watched. The Tyrant just glared before licking slowly across his sharp teeth, not letting a single look of discomfort or agitation show. If he knew what he was looking at…it was almost as if he was challenging her daring her to do more. With that, Jill let out a darker, shakier sigh, feeling like maybe, maybe she will get her _more_.

**_you bring out the worst in Me, boy._ **


End file.
